


Not The Work of a Moment

by prhood



Category: Pride and Prejudice - Jane Austen
Genre: F/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2021-03-03
Updated: 2021-03-03
Packaged: 2021-03-16 11:15:36
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 10,716
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/29824107
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/prhood/pseuds/prhood
Summary: Bingley is not quite so malleable.
Relationships: Elizabeth Bennet/Fitzwilliam Darcy, Jane Bennet/Charles Bingley
Comments: 19
Kudos: 216





	Not The Work of a Moment

_“…He {Bingley} had before believed her to return his affection with sincere, if not with equal, regard. — But Bingley has great natural modesty, with a stronger dependence on my judgment than on his own. — To convince him, therefore, that he had deceived himself, was no very difficult point. To persuade him against returning into Hertfordshire, when that conviction had been given, was scarcely the work of a moment.” P &P, Chapter 35_

~~~~~~

Bingley Residence  
Brooks Street, London

“You closed up Netherfield! Why ever would you do such a thing?” cried Charles Bingley. “I intend to return in several days.”

Charles Bingley had been surprised beyond measure when, while relaxing in the sparse comforts of his club where he had chosen to stay for his short visit to town, he had received a note from his younger sister, Caroline, informing him of their arrival in town and suggesting he remove to his home in on Brooks Street. He had not done so upon his arrival in town, as he did not wish to open the house when it was more convenient to conduct his business from his club. 

He had been astonished to find, upon his arrival at his house, that his close friend, Fitzwilliam Darcy, had joined Caroline and the Hursts. He dealt with the usual pleasantries abruptly, for his patience was ebbing quickly. His inquiry, fueled by his irritation at their unexpected presence, apparently discomposed his interlocutors, for they exchanged glances until finally it appeared that Caroline was to be their initial spokesperson.

Caroline had not spoken above twenty seconds when he understood that his sisters had conspired with his friend to persuade him to relinquish his attachment to Miss Jane Bennet, eldest daughter of five who resided at Longbourn, an estate but three miles from Netherfield which he was currently leasing. He had made Miss Bennet’s acquaintance about six week previous, had been drawn to her almost immediately and the longer their acquaintance lasted, the firmer and stronger his affection for her had grown. He had wondered at first whether she returned his admiration, for hers was a serene and composed demeanour. In contrast to himself, she would not lay bare her feelings for the display to her neighbours. He honoured her for it. It was not until they danced at the ball he had hosted only two days before this trip to town that he became assured of her affections for him. It was subtly done. A matter of a warmer smile, a blush at a compliment, a flash of annoyance when someone drew her away from him to dance. And, when he informed her that he must travel to town upon business but would return in less than week, the transformation of her expression from dismay to pleasure was unfeigned. He knew his sisters and Darcy thought him naïve, but he had more than sufficient experience to discern falsity in such instances. He had seen too much of the latter to be ignorant of its manifestations. Jane Bennet had not a false bone in her body. And such a delectable body!

His rumination on the delights of Miss Bennet’s statuesque form made of his sister’s voice a shrill annoyance. At last, he pushed aside the pleasant thoughts and returned his concentration to her complaints. Unfortunately, there was nothing truly new or interesting to be found therein. He sighed.

That appeared to be a signal for his other sister, Louisa, to attempt to buttress Caroline’s arguments by repetition. Darcy, he noticed, was a silent observer, but his opinion could hardly be doubted, for he nodded sagely at every point Bingley’s sisters presented. His occasional wince at the manner of their expression did not diminish in any way his apparent agreement with their conclusions. 

Bingley allowed his elder sister to exhaust the arguments that she and Caroline had concocted, consciously suppressing his desire to consult his watch, and schooling his features to mask his displeasure. Caroline was watching him closely, apparently satisfied that his silence reflected his agreement with their opinions. Hurst, his rather boorish brother-in-law, was also seemingly in agreement. Of course, Hurst would agree with anything that furthered his ability to enjoy fine food and finer drinks, and that, outside of Netherfield, had been in short supply in Hertfordshire. The area around Meryton hosted no family of sufficient wealth to satisfy Hurst’s tastes for food, wine or cards, or of consequence enough to please his sisters. Hurst, at least, had not voiced his concerns but was, nonetheless, undoubtedly quite pleased to return to the finer cuisine and wines offered in town.

Finally, when Louisa fell silent, Bingley sighed once more. 

“I have heard nothing tonight which has not been said before. You do not like the society around Netherfield, you particularly do not like the Bennet family, finding them uncouth, improper and, most importantly it seems to me, lacking in fortune and consequence. Have I missed anything?”

“Oh, I forgot!” he added, before anyone could reply, “you also believe Mrs. Bennet to be mercenary as well as indecorous, planning to foist her daughter on me, an unsuspecting gentleman. Moreover, she will demand that Miss Bennet accept an offer of marriage from me, regardless of her feelings on the matter. Have I omitted anything of significance?”

Darcy finally found his voice. 

“Apart from these considerations, Bingley, there are two others that you may not have considered. The first is that Longbourn is entailed away from the Bennet family. When their father dies, his daughters and their mother will be cut adrift.”

“Perhaps Miss Eliza will marry her cousin,” snickered Caroline, “Won’t that be a felicitous arrangement.”

Darcy scowled but continued as though Miss Bingley had not spoken.

“The importance of their situation cannot be too little emphasized. Should you marry Miss Bennet, you may well expect to have the care of her mother and unmarried sisters; and, since their portions are small, the probability of their marrying anyone of consequence and thus able to contribute to their upkeep is also poor.”

“And if we speak of a care for a sister, what of my circumstances?” exclaimed Caroline. “Do you suppose a marriage to Miss Bennet to improve my chances of making a match which will allow me to raise our family’s position in society? You cannot be so… so…”

“Naïve?” suggested Bingley with a touch of asperity. “Of course not! However, allow me to remind you, dear sister, that you have been out in society for several years, have spurned, to my recollection, two offers from gentlemen who would do exactly as you wish. Under such circumstances, I feel little reluctance to pursue my own happiness.”

Bingley was quite aware of his sister’s aspirations in regards to Darcy, but none of his warnings had dissuaded her and she was fully blind to Darcy’s indifference. He returned his attention to Darcy’s expressed concerns.

“I am not unaware of the circumstances surrounding the Bennets’ estate. How could I be? It is everywhere a subject of gossip. However, I believe the Bennets have other relatives who, undoubtedly, will assist in such circumstances,” replied Bingley composedly. He was annoyed that Darcy appeared to believe him oblivious to such a matter. Had he not spent most of the previous day and today consulting with his solicitor on these and related subjects? He huffed in exasperation and almost gave voice to what he had so far accomplished, but stopped himself from doing so by two considerations. First, Darcy had no knowledge of what Bingley had been doing and it was really none of his affair. His second reason was more compelling. Darcy had never, to his remembrance, confided in him on a private matter, nor sought his counsel on his business affairs. It was very much as though Darcy did not consider Bingley’s knowledge or experience to be of any importance or likely to be of assistance. Bingley wondered why he had never before considered matters in such a light. Furthermore, he knew his friend and his sisters too well. Whatever he had accomplished must be subject to Darcy’s review and counsel, and his sisters – Caroline, in particular - would afford him no peace if he did not adhere to that advice, unsought though it was. He regarded Darcy more closely. His friend’s features were closed, masking his thoughts completely. Not a usual circumstance as he recalled and a trait he had always disliked, though he had refused to allow it to detract from their friendship. 

Darcy waved a hand dismissively. “You cannot believe a solicitor and a tradesman who, I would remind you is brother to Mrs. Bennet – a more foolish woman I dare you to find and I cannot believe her brother to be any better – you cannot expect them to be of material assistance. I dare say the responsibility will fall largely on you.”

Bingley laughed. “You would aver, without having even met the man, that Mrs. Bennet’s brother is her twin? I suppose you would also say that my sisters and I are very like, or that your aunt is much like your uncle?”

Darcy scowled, “I do not think such comparisons relevant in this instance.”

“I’m sure you do not,” replied his friend, barely able to restrain from injecting a sneer in his voice. He must not have been completely successful, for Darcy frowned. Too bad! Darcy’s aunt, Lady Catherine de Bourgh, whom Bingley had the misfortune of meeting once, was a most unpleasant woman, and quite the opposite of her brother, the earl. She was, of course, probably exempt, at least in Darcy’s opinion, from any such odious comparisons, by virtue of her privileged status in society. Bingley’s sister took up the challenge.

“Charles, how can you possibly equate a relative of Mr. Darcy to Mrs. Bennet and her brother. Are you bereft of sense?” exclaimed Caroline, who cast a worried eye at Darcy as she spoke. 

He snorted. His sister had never met Lady Catherine de Bourgh. He had, to his regret, for the lady had nothing kind to say to him or of him during their brief meeting.

“Besides,” continued his sister, “a connection to a tradesman will cause us to be scorned in society.”

“Is Darcy scorned?” queried Bingley, wearying of the discussion. “His association with us does not appear to have harmed him unduly. Considering,” and he spoke over his sister Louisa’s exclamations, “that our own family is replete with tradesmen. I certainly have no intention of scorning my father or mother for their roots, not my aunts and uncles. You may do as you wish, but do not expect me to be complicit in such disparagement. I, unlike you, am proud of what my parents accomplished.”

Caroline huffed and he could see that his mention of her family roots had displeased her. 

“Brother,” she said after a brief silence, “I do not wish to decry Miss Bennet’s attractions; however, you can do ever so much better.” And she, with obvious deliberation, glanced at Darcy.

“I do not have the pleasure of understanding you, Caroline. Of what do you speak?”

“I believe,” interjected Darcy, “that your sister is suggesting Georgiana as a possible wife in the future.”

“But Georgiana is only sixteen!” cried Bingley, “She is hardly eligible to be married for some time.” 

“And besides,” he added after a few moments, “I do not hold her in any particular affection. She is a nice child, a nice young girl, but that is the sum total of my feelings for her.”

“Georgiana just turned sixteen, will be seventeen in a year’s time and has a dowry of thirty thousand, Bingley. This will certainly buttress your finances in addition to improving your position in society,” said Darcy.

Bingley glared at his sisters who were nodding enthusiastically as Darcy spoke, and could not prevent anger and distaste from colouring his response.

“I am, I presume, thus to sacrifice my own happiness for yours and my sisters, Darcy? I might wonder at your desire to promote a match between myself and Georgiana? What can you mean by it? I would think your sister could attract someone of much greater consequence when she is ready to marry.”

Darcy stood and walked to position himself at the window, turning to look outside for several minutes before finally replying. 

“My sister,” said he, “is a gentle soul and I would wish to see her future secured in a marriage to a man who I thought would treat her well. I certainly did not envision having you marry now. You are both too young. You are not even twenty-three yourself, Bingley.”

“I thank you for the honour,” said Bingley. “I suppose, as you are so ready to counsel me, that you need not fear that I would mistreat her; however, as I have no interest in forming an attachment with your sister, you shall have to look elsewhere. Besides, I am just a callow youth in your estimation, am I not? One who must be still in leading strings according to the all-prescient Mr. Darcy.”

Darcy appeared to take offence at this speech and Bingley thought perhaps he had been too dismissive, excessively disinterested, in expressing his intentions, or rather his lack of the same. He attempted to suppress a smirk. He had not usually been so cavalier with Darcy, but rarely had his friend been more aggravating. 

“I do not appreciate your disrespect for Georgiana, Bingley.” Bingley had rarely seen Darcy more agitated. He shrugged.

“And I, Darcy, do not appreciate your disparagement of Miss Bennet and her relations. So, it seems we both have cause to be displeased.”

“Brother!” shrilled Caroline. “You are being excessively rude and impolite to our dearest friend and your comments about dear Georgiana are abhorrent.”

Louisa nodded vigorously. Hurst took a gulp of port and slumped back into his chair.

“Have I ever given your poor advice, Bingley? Have I ever given you cause to doubt my understanding? I have not, sir, and I wonder at your disinclination to heed my counsel now. And to insult my sister who would be the means of elevating you into a higher station in society is most unseemly, most unkind. I wonder at your sensibleness. Do you think I would have afforded you so much attention and care had I not wished to further the connection between us? While it was never my chief motive, I have endeavoured to raise your consequence in society such that a familial connection with you, should it arise, would not disadvantage my sister.”

“I see,” said Bingley, “so our . . . friendship is predicated upon my marriage to Miss Darcy?”

Bingley’s sister nodded vigorously. Darcy simply glared at him. In truth, the possible advantages of having Bingley marry his sister had not been the chief motive underlying his developing friendship with Bingley. It had arisen as a possibility as his appreciation for Bingley’s character had grown. His sister was a shy, reserved creature and Bingley’s amiability and openness would complement her character very well. It was only after the past summer’s appalling incident at Ramsgate, where George Wickham had attempted to impose himself on her, that his determination to forward a match between her and Bingley was given impetus. He thus responded to Bingley’s query with more assurance than was wise. 

“I am surprised you need even ask, Bingley.”

Bingley did not reply immediately, contemplating his friend more closely than ever before. There was an arrogance, a hauteur, about Darcy which he could not appreciate. He had seen it displayed quite often in the past, but never at himself. It was . . . unsettling!

He could not fault his friend’s past advice. More than once he had served Bingley well: having extracted him from a card game where known card-shapers operated, thus saving Bingley’s from losing a substantial amount; garnered him and his sisters invitations to society events that he, on his own merits, could never aspire to attend; and once, informing him of the mercenary motives of a young lady and her family before he made her an offer of marriage. It was most expeditiously done, and he had supposed it to have arisen from unalloyed friendship rather than, as it now appeared, to protect Darcy’s interest in securing a wealthy and kindly husband for his sister. 

“I see,” said Bingley, rising to his feet, “as this is my house, I believe I should like to enjoy it alone. You” and he directed his glare at his sisters and Hurst, “can hie yourselves off to Hurst’s house. I do not wish to enjoy your company for quite some time.”

Miss Bingley raised an objection at once, echoed closely by her sister. Hurst simply appeared stunned, as though incapable of understanding his brother’s annoyance. Bingley suspected that he also did not wish to see his own income used to support himself and Bingley’s sisters. Bingley allowed his sisters to voice their annoyance for some minutes before pulling the bell cord to summon his butler. That gentleman was directed to arrange the carriage, and Bingley then turned to his relations, advising them that they had an hour to collect their belongings for transport to Hurst’s house. 

“You will,” he said, “be gone within the hour, else I shall simply my footmen deposit you and your belongings outside the door, and you may make your way there as best you can. Do not doubt me on this, Sisters!”

His glare encompassed them all, but ended at Darcy, who he next addressed.

“I believe,” said Bingley, “that I must question the nature of our friendship. I must now wonder if it truly exists. It seems that I am of value only when I am compliant with your wishes and opinions. That will not do for me. I find that I can no longer trust your advice as being in my best interest. You have greatly overstepped the mark, Darcy. It is one thing to provide me a fact upon which to base a decision – as you did in the instance of Miss Craddock, offering me evidence which demonstrated the family’s perilous financial situation - and quite another to offer an opinion based on your understanding of a situation. Had I asked for it, you might be justified, but to conspire with my sisters - for I can call it little more – is completely unacceptable. I am not one of your minions, Darcy, that you can command as you wish. 

“I shall not impose my company on you in the future and, should we meet, I believe it best to do so as indifferent acquaintances. Whether we will ever salvage our relationship is beyond my comprehension at the moment. I bid you good day, Mr. Darcy.”

Bingley left the room to the squalls of his sisters, worried - with cause, undoubtedly - that their ability to access the highest level of society would disappear with the severance of their brother’s friendship with Darcy. Bingley turned at the door, and silenced their complaints with a simple statement.

“I would suggest you not waste your time bemoaning what you have lost. You have one hour, and one hour only. I suggest you use it wisely. Whatever you do not take will be sent to Hurst’s house tomorrow.”

Bingley continued out of the room and headed to his study, closing and locking that room’s door behind him. A decision he did not regret, for Caroline hammered on it in frustration for several minutes, demanding to speak to him, before finally accepting his silence as a refusal and going away to make her arrangements. He wondered that she did not return but she did not, and neither did the Hursts disturb his solitude. Allowing them a few minutes extra, he did not leave the room until the sound of a carriage rumbling away from the front of the house gave proof of their departure. 

The house was blessedly quiet. 

Bingley returned to Netherfield a se’nnight after leaving there for London. He had notified Mrs. Nichols of his anticipated return, countermanding Caroline’s orders to release all the staff. Fortunately, Mrs. Nichols was able to assure him that all had been rehired with hardly any diminution of service or salary. He called upon Longbourn the following day to the pleasure of all its residents. There was a brief uncomfortable moment when apprised of his sister’s letter to Jane Bennet which denied any intention on her part or, she claimed, on the part of her brother to return to Netherfield. That he visited alone with no mention of his sisters or his friend did not go unnoticed. Elizabeth Bennet, Jane’s next youngest sister, was more forthright than her elder sister, though the latter was equally curious.

“Have your sisters returned with you, Mr. Bingley?” asked Elizabeth.

Bingley was quick to assure them he had returned alone. Elizabeth nodded agreeably and Jane appeared, to Bingley’s eye, rather relieved.

“Your friend, Mr. Darcy, has also chosen not to return?” was Elizabeth’s next question.

Bingley scowled slightly, “Darcy was not invited and I believe he always intended to return to London for the Christmas season. He and his sister will most likely travel to Pemberley and spend Christmastide with his relations.”

The relief on Jane’s mien appeared to deepen.

“Speaking of Miss Darcy,” said Elizabeth, “Miss Bingley gave us to understand that an attachment had been formed between her and you, Mr. Bingley, though I must suppose that your presence here gives the lie to such an assertion.”

Bingley glanced between the two sisters, relieved that no one else was present. This purported attachment was a matter he was most eager to deny.

“I was given to understand,” said he, after a few moments to order his thoughts, “by both my sisters and Darcy, that such an attachment was their wish. I will even go so far as to say that Darcy’s friendship was apparently predicated upon my marrying his sister.”

“What type of girl is Miss Darcy,” asked Elizabeth, fully expecting to be informed that in character she was most like her brother, proud and conceited. Had not George Wickham, who could boast of an intimate knowledge of the Darcy family, declared as much?

“She is a sweet-tempered, shy girl of only sixteen years. Much too young to even consider marriage.”

Elizabeth did not hide her surprise. “Sweet-tempered! Shy! Are we talking of the same young lady? I have been informed by a reliable source that she is much like her brother in manners.”

It was Bingley’s turn to show confusion. “I do not, of course, know who your sources are, but I can state with absolute certainty that in temperament she is quite the opposite of Darcy. Who is this source you speak of?”

“George Wickham.”

“Ah, your sister mentioned something of him at the ball. I cannot speak from personal experience, for I am unacquainted with Wickham, he having been in his final year at Cambridge during my first; however, I have several friends who were more familiar with him and had nothing good to say of his character.”

“Undoubtedly influenced by Mr. Darcy,” declared Elizabeth.

Bingley shook his head, “No, none of them were, to my knowledge, well acquainted with Darcy, though I am sure they knew of him. Despite my disagreement with Darcy, he is scrupulously honest and usually fair-minded. If he has taken George Wickham in dislike, I am quite certain it is with due cause. Might I enquire what Mr. Wickham has said of Darcy? I can tell you that Darcy said nothing more than the man was not to be trusted.”

Elizabeth, after a brief pause to deliberate on the advisability of doing so, proceeded to relate to Bingley those charges which George Wickham had laid to Darcy’s account, the principal one being Darcy’s refusal of a living which Darcy’s father had wanted to gift his godson, George Wickham. Bingley listened without interrupting her recital and did not at once respond, deliberating on how best to convince Elizabeth, for her distaste for Darcy permeated her every word.

Finally, he spoke. “I believe, I informed your sister, when she raised the matter with me at the ball, that though I did not know the particulars of the case, I was assured of the probity of my friend in the matter.”

“But what you have been told is from Mr. Darcy alone!” cried Elizabeth.

Bingley shook his head. “My opinion of Darcy does not depend upon this issue alone. I have known him for several years, and never, Miss Elizabeth, never have I had cause to doubt his honour. If his father wished for Wickham to have the living, Darcy would have given it to him.”

“But he did not! Wickham said there was some ambiguity in the bequest, that he had no recourse in law but that an honourable man would have honoured his father’s request.”

Bingley shook his head determinedly, 

And there lies the problem, Miss Elizabeth. I know Darcy’s character. His character is not perfect but he is unquestionably honest, sometimes to a fault. Besides, consider this: the bequest was undoubtedly known to one and all. These things cannot be hidden. Darcy’s reputation would have suffered in public opinion should he refuse to honour his father’s wish in the matter. No! It is impossible. I cannot speak to the particulars, but there some information which this George Wickham has not exposed. Besides . . .” and he paused briefly, “did you not say he said that Miss Darcy was proud and conceited?”

Elizabeth nodded, somewhat reluctantly, her confidence in the reliability of Wickham’s tale of misfortune foundering on Bingley’s certitude of Darcy’s probity.

“Well, there I can say with certainty that he has misrepresented her character . . . and badly, for she is quite the reverse in nature. No! If Wickham has lied on this matter, I cannot accept, without reservation, anything he has claimed in respect of Darcy. I must, I think, disbelieve him in total.”

Jane, who had largely been a silent witness to the discussion, suddenly seemed to have determined that it had gone on quite long enough, and with great resolution, began speaking of the impending visit of her aunt and uncle, Mr. And Mrs. Gardiner. The latter was Mrs. Bennet’s younger brother (by only a few years) and he and his wife were the particular favourites of Elizabeth and Jane, for the two sisters were frequent visitors to the Gardiner home in London. It was an absorbing topic and Bingley was strongly inclined to approve of a couple who were held in such high regard by Jane Bennet.

Having decided upon his course during his stay in London, Bingley was not slow in carrying out his intention of offering for Jane Bennet. He did so as soon as a private moment could be arranged, and in this he was ably assisted by Mrs. Bennet’s stratagems, for she was equally eager to see him propose. Thus, within a week of his return to Netherfield, Bingley found himself most happily betrothed to Jane Bennet. Of her mother’s approval there could be no doubt, but that of Mr. Bennet and Elizabeth was more valued as it arose from an understanding of, and appreciation for, the characters of the engaged couple. 

When the Gardiners arrived at Longbourn, it was to a house overflowing with happiness. Even Lydia, who was heard to frequently bemoan not being the first of her sisters to marry, anticipated with pleasure the benefits to follow such an advantageous match.

The couple married during the Gardiner’s visit and almost immediately removed to Bingley’s London house, for Netherfield’s proximity to Longbourn and Mrs. Bennet’s effusions was too close for even the couples’ amiable natures. When the Gardiners returned to London, accompanying them was Elizabeth who, after allowing the newly married couple a month of privacy, would make her home thereafter with her sister and her new husband. It was a happy situation for all concerned with several serendipitous results.

The first arose out of the friendship that developed between Bingley and Mr. Gardiner. The latter, a man some fifteen years Bingley’s senior, soon added “mentor” to the role of uncle to the younger man. Having lost his father before his majority, Bingley was greatly in want of guidance and disinterested advice – or as disinterested as advice could be between two compatible gentleman. Such advice had, in recent years, been provided by Darcy. The severance of that relationship had left a vacancy, one that Bingley was pleased to have Mr. Gardiner fill. 

Over the course of that first winter the two gentlemen had many occasions to discuss a multitude of matters encompassing investments, family, entertainments, business opportunities and sundry other issues. One thing Mr. Gardiner insisted upon early in their acquaintance.

“I will not,” said he, “allow you to invest in my business. It is my experience that friendships can be destroyed all too easily when business matters are mixed in. I will, with a great deal of pleasure, accept responsibility for investing the funds you have bestowed on Elizabeth - Bingley having supplemented Elizabeth’s meagre one thousand pounds with another four thousand.”

Bingley acquiesced with some reluctance, for his new uncle had, in almost twenty years, grown a very modest fortune of ten thousand inherited from his father, into one that was only slightly less than Bingley’s own. His own father, Bingley knew, would have been greatly impressed.

It was now some four months after his wedding and the Bingleys, as was their wont, were hosting the Gardiners for Sunday dinner. The two couples (and Elizabeth) had fallen easily into the habit of hosting, on alternate weeks, a Sunday dinner. Replete with a sumptuous meal, the two gentlemen were lingering over an excellent bottle of port after the ladies had withdrawn to the parlour.

“Madeline,” said Mr. Gardiner, “informs me that you have found someone to take over the Netherfield lease.”

Bingley nodded, “The father of a university colleague was looking for something in easy distance of London.”

“Ah, not a single man then. Unfortunate. My sister will be greatly disappointed.”

“Well, he is single – a widower but of some fifty years or more.”

“That should not discourage my sister too much. I’m sure she’ll parade Mary in front of him.”

Bingley simply shook his head. It was fruitless in his opinion to decry Mrs. Bennet’s habits. One might as well rail against the rain.

“Are you looking for another estate?” inquired Mr. Gardiner.

Bingley said he was not, though it was something he might consider during the summer.

“May I ask a somewhat personal question?” asked Mr. Gardiner, and receiving his host’s assent, continued, “Do you see yourself content as a country gentleman? Is it the life you prefer? . . . In comparison, for instance, living in town and residing in the country only during the heat of the summer?”

Bingley was thoughtful. “I cannot say that I have even considered the question,” said he. “I recollect once saying that when I was in the country, I never wanted to leave, and when in the city, feeling quite the same.”

“Perhaps,” suggested Gardiner, “you might wish to consider the alternatives before you. It is possible to have the best of both. For instance, I plan in a few years to purchase a small estate – perhaps five or six hundred a year and within easy distance of town – to reside there for several months a year. I will remain engaged in business with the object of continuing to grow my wealth. Madeline and I have four children, and it is not impossible that we might be blessed with more. I wish to provide for them all in a decent fashion, and that cannot be done if I tie up all my wealth in land. Besides, I quite enjoy business and the entertainments and company in town are much superior to those in the country.”

“Apart from fishing,” he added hastily.

Bingley smiled in response and sipped his port in contemplation. “It is,” said he, “ something worth thinking on.”

“I might suggest you involve Jane in such thinking,” said his uncle, “I am sure she will have much to contribute. And you know Lizzy will have an opinion.”

Bingley laughed, “She has no shortage of those, to be sure.”

The two men tossed off the remains of their glasses and rejoined the ladies. Over the following week, Bingley held several discussions with his wife and sister, addressing their futures. To no one’s surprise, Jane was hesitant to voice an opinion, voicing her preference to abide by whatever her husband wished. Elizabeth was equally reticent, not believing it was within her purview to voice any preference.

“I shall, I hope, be married in the not-too-distant future. It would be presumptuous on my part to have a voice in your future when it is most probable, I will not be sharing it personally.”

Bingley would not be satisfied with either demurral, insisting that while he would not feel himself bound by what they said, he did wish to take their wishes and preferences into account. To this end, he declared, “It may surprise you both but while I enjoyed the neighbours I met at Netherfield, I found that the company was a little too limiting for my liking. I am not of a contemplative nature, and more inclined to enjoy hunting and riding. While I suppose the management of an estate could be satisfying to some, I prefer the more active involvement required in business and the wider circles of acquaintances and entertainments that town offers. Besides, Mr. Gardiner has made one excellent point. My . . . wealth, if you will, is quite sufficient for now but when our family expands - Jane smiled and flushed at the same time, for she had acquainted her husband that morning, as she bent over a chamber-pot, that he was to become a father – I will wish to provide for them as best as possible. I can, as our uncle stated, grow my fortune better here in town, than on an estate.”

“So, you plan to remain in town,” said Elizabeth, with a trace of disappointment in her voice.

“I intend,” stated her brother, “to follow Mr. Gardiner’s example and look for a modest estate in the country, in close proximity to town, where we might spend three or four months a year during the summer. Such an easy distance should allow me to oversee my business interests and escape London during its most noisome period.”

Jane voiced her approval and Elizabeth did likewise, although it is probable that hers was less enthusiastic. Nonetheless, she much preferred living with the Bingleys in town, rather than living at Longbourn with the pleasure of country life offset by the discomfort of Longbourn’s society. Bingley instructed his solicitor accordingly to find suitable small estates within an easy distance of town for his appraisal. The Bingley’s wedding trip that summer, with Elizabeth in company, was to be spent travelling about, stopping occasionally to view and assess an estate to determine its suitability.

They finally settled on a modest estate in Berkshire, some forty miles west of London – an easy half-day’s travel, declared Bingley, if the roads were good (which they were). The estate lay a few miles south-east of the town of Reading, held several tenant farms, and had a manor about the size of Longbourn, though more modernly furnished. It was a delightful situation, meeting the approval of all three parties. Most importantly, from Bingley’s perspective, it cost only thirty thousand pounds, provided an annual income of about a thousand pounds, and left the bulk of his fortune to be deployed in more profitable ventures. He had satisfied his father’s wish, he was now a member of the landed gentry, but also enabled to improve his fortune to meet his other needs and wishes. Bingley was to take occupancy at Michaelmas and intended they stay for two months to oversee the harvest and acquaint themselves with their neighbours.

Having placed a reasonable portion of his wealth in a secure investment, he felt comfortable in using the remainder more profitably. Fifty thousand, he began investing in modest amounts into a variety of businesses where returns were significantly better than the funds but where risk could not be altogether avoided, but as both his father and Mr. Gardiner had advised, any return above the funds must carry some risk commensurate with the extra earnings. To minimize his exposure, he determined never to invest more than a tenth of this fund into any particular venture. The third component, totalling almost twenty thousand pounds, was directed to speculative ventures where the risk and the returns were both much, much higher. Again, he refused to place more than five thousand pounds into any single investment. These pursuits, he quickly found, were very much to his liking. Being a sociable person, he was able to use his genial manner to ease his path and, if some assumed an easy manner implied a less than diligent handling of his business affairs, he was quite happy to allow them to underestimate him. Their misconception rarely lasted beyond the first days of their acquaintance.

I did mention, did I not, that there were several serendipitous events flowing from Bingley’s marriage? The close and profitable relationship between Mr. Gardiner and Bingley was the foremost. A second was to the benefit of Elizabeth, though a certain long-deceased author might disagree. 

Due to her sojourn with the Gardiners following Jane’s wedding, poor weather made it impossible for Elizabeth to return to Hertfordshire to attend Charlotte Lucas’ marriage to William Collins. Elizabeth wrote her friend expressing her regrets but was secretly pleased to not be subject to her mother’s complaint that Charlotte, instead of Elizabeth, was marrying Longbourn’s heir. That she was spared Mr. Collins’ company was an additional reason for Elizabeth to be thankful. However, her equanimity was somewhat disturbed when she received a letter from her friend inviting her to visit for two months over Easter. Charlotte’s father, Sir William Lucas, and her sister, Maria, were to travel to Hunsford in March, and Elizabeth might join them when they passed through London. By this time Elizabeth believed that the pleasure of her friend’s company would more than compensate for the disgust she felt for Mr. Collins. She had almost resolved to accept the offer when she happened to mention it at breakfast that morning.

“Mr. Collins,” said Bingley, “is pastor of the Hunsford living? Is that not the . . . auspices of Lady Catherine de Bourgh?”

Elizabeth assented, asking, “are you acquainted with Lady Catherine?”

Bingley grimaced but acknowledged that he had met her once. “And,” he added, “once was more than enough.”

“Mr. Collins spoke of her with great respect,” said Jane.

“He most certainly did!” replied her sister, “I often thought he held her in greater reverence than the Lord himself. Her name was certainly mentioned a great deal more often.”

Bingley snorted, “She is a most unpleasant woman – dictatorial – condescending – intrusive – rudely impertinent – and, rather stupid as well. She is Darcy’s aunt, you know,”

“I had forgotten,” said Elizabeth, “but I now recollect Mr. Collins declaring it to be so.”

“I would not wish you to be uncomfortable if you should visit, Lizzy,” said Bingley, “but Darcy visits his aunt every Easter. I cannot be certain of the dates or even how long he stays. I know you dislike him a great deal.”

Elizabeth agreed that she did, and began to wonder if the presence of three such disagreeable persons outweighed any pleasure she might receive from her time with Charlotte. While she was thus contemplating, Bingley made a suggestion.

“Jane and I have received a number of invitations which we intend to accept. We were hoping that you would make one of our party. I can assure you that my friends are, for the most part, quite agreeable. There might even be an assembly or two we can attend. What say you?”

Elizabeth smiled; her dilemma resolved. “I say that I would be honoured to accompany you.”

A letter was written to Charlotte declining the invitation, declaring that she simply would not feel comfortable staying with Mr. Collins given all that had taken place between them. Charlotte’s response expressed her disappointment and understanding. A subsequent missive at Easter noted that Mr. Darcy had visited Rosings Park, his aunt’s estate, and had even called at the Parsonage in company with a cousin, Colonel Fitzwilliam.

“He enquired after you, Eliza” wrote Charlotte, “expressed his regrets that you had decided not to visit, and also asked me to extend his congratulations to your sister and Mr. Bingley on their marriage. I found that rather singular, though as I recollect the matter now, he did not attend the wedding. I thought him to be a very good friend of Mr. Bingley?”

Elizabeth had never before enjoyed a London season, and the several months that followed gave her, as she freely admitted, as much of a season as she could ever want. The Bingleys did not move in the most elevated circles. As Bingley confessed “I did so only as Darcy’s guest, never on my own merits. However, I cannot repine the loss, for I have now with me the most beautiful woman in the city, and her most charming sister. I can want for nothing more.”

~~~~~~~~

Bingley could take a great deal of satisfaction in the manner which events had unfolded since he had decided to reject the dictates of his sisters and the overbearing direction of his supposed friend. He had wed the woman he loved, acquired a modest estate more befitting his needs and aspirations, had begun to exercise his talents in hunting out prospective profitable ventures, and gotten his beloved wife with child. The infant was due before year’s end. To all of these accomplishments, he could add others. He had found a mentor in Mr. Gardiner and gained a delightful sister in Elizabeth Bennet. If he could see her as happily situated in marriage as himself, his pleasure, and certainly that of his wife, would be so very greatly enhanced. He could not envision Elizabeth accepting a man that he could not regard with approval. To this end, he fully intended to dedicated himself, once his wife’s confinement was over and she could rejoin society, to the task of introducing Elizabeth to as many of his acquaintances as possible.

His circle of friends included many with whom he had met in university, while others he had encountered through his business dealings. To these must added a number of gentlemen to whom he had been introduced by the Gardiners, including among their number a number of professional men: barristers, clergy and even a naval officer or two. It was, he knew, am eclectic group of men, while many were married, the majority were not, and eminently eligible suitors for his sister.

And this was the third, and final, serendipitous circumstance. Elizabeth had been born and raised in a small neighbourhood of in Hertfordshire. Her family did not have the wealth or consequence to introduce her into a broader and deeper society. The men within her scope, before Bingley married her sister, did not possess the intelligence and information to capture her interest. While Bingley was not the man for her, within his collection of friends and acquaintances there were likely to be several such.

~~~~~~~

It was early spring the next year and Charles Bingley was feeling particularly satisfied with his life. His son was now almost four months old and very healthy if the strength of his lungs was an indication. Jane was fully recovered from the trials of childbirth and was once more eagerly welcoming him into her bed. His business dealings were extraordinarily profitable, his net wealth increasing by almost twenty percent in the last twelfth-month. 

His musings were interrupted by a knock on the door. His butler answered the command to enter.

“A Mr. Darcy to see you, sir.”

Bingley was more than slightly surprised. Much more! He could think of no reason for Darcy to call on him after the passage of so many months. Why it must be almost eighteen months since he last spoke with Darcy! His customary civility quite deserted him as he gaped at his former friend.

Darcy smiled wryly. It had taken him many months to arrive at point where he wished to reconcile with Bingley and he supposed that were it not for one compelling reason, he might have never have chosen to do so. Even after reaching that point, it required a further month of internal debate to summon the nerve to actually approach Bingley. That he had astounded Bingley was not unexpected. There had been absolutely no intercourse between them since their last encounter, and he could probably assume that Bingley had moved on, giving him little further thought. 

Darcy, however, had not moved on. After his temper had cooled, he began to understand how greatly he had injured his friend. That process led him, as circumspectly as possible, to discover how Bingley was faring. What he learned could not but please. It seemed his friend – his former friend, to be precise – had grown and was stronger for their separation. He had married over the objections of his relations and friend, begun a family, acquired a modest country estate, and was establishing himself firmly in the business world. Moreover, while accepting his wife’s relations as his own, he managed to keep them at arm’s length, although not so distant as his own sisters. Finally, he had taken into his household one Elizabeth Bennet and, if reports were to be believed - and Darcy did not doubt them – she was well-regarded within the circle Bingley and his wife inhabited.

It was Elizabeth Bennet that had brought Darcy to Bingley’s home. When he left Netherfield so many months past, he had determined to extinguish the growing attraction he felt for her. Distance, he was certain, would snuff out the infatuation, for how could it be anything more? Men of his consequence did not marry women of hers. The degree of separation between them was too great to be ignored. And, if that was insufficient, he had but to consider the impropriety of her family, and the embarrassment he would endure from their behaviour should he be so unwise as to marry Elizabeth Bennet, to comprehend the impossibility of such an action. It was totally and completely inconceivable! Except now, after the passage of months, he could not forget her. He supposed that, had he not observed her at the theatre one evening when the Bingley party had rented a box, his memories might have gradually faded. She had been so alive, so sparkling in her pleasure, that she brightened all around her and diminished other women, even her beautiful sister, by the contrast. 

He could not help himself and, surreptitiously, he had placed himself where he might observe her without disclosing his own presence. It had come to this. He could no longer deny his feelings and now could not but hope to engender similar emotions in her breast.

“I must suppose,” said he, “that you never expected to encounter me again?”

Bingley grasped the threads of his composure, made the accepted welcoming noises, and waved Darcy to the chair fronting his desk.

“I cannot account for your presence, to be sure,” he said, “however, that does not necessarily make it unwelcome.”

“You are too generous, Bingley.”

Bingley waved the comment off. “I believe,” he said, “that I should acknowledge that our . . . separation has been the making of me; however, I will not apologize for severing our connection. I believe you used me very ill, indeed.”

“I did,” acknowledged Darcy, “and for that I wish to apologize. It was poorly done, and unworthy of me and you.” He paused briefly, before continuing, for this was the hardest portion of his confession, but also the most important. “I wish to assure you that I spoke in error when declaring that my friendship was based on a desire to have you marry my sister. It was not, though I will admit the thought had crossed my mind. It was only an event, which happened that summer that I cannot disclose, which made it seem essential at the time. I was sadly in error.” 

Bingley’s expression was thoughtful, but he slowly nodded. Darcy rather thought that two years previous, Bingley’s acceptance would have been immediate and almost thoughtless. He much preferred this more deliberate and cautious Bingley. He had missed Bingley a great deal, and the loss of his friendship had, once his anger had cooled, forced him to reconsider his treatment not only of Bingley, but others whom he had disdained. One of Bingley’s most redeeming qualities was his ready acceptance of the follies and foibles of others. Darcy resolved that, if he could not equal Bingley’s ease of manner, he could at least hope to present a more agreeable demeanour. 

“Very well,” said Bingley, “your apology is accepted. We shall speak of it no more.”

“I wish to congratulate you on your marriage and on the birth of your son. You have reason to be excessively pleased. Mrs. Bingley is an exemplary woman. I have heard many compliments for her at my club.”

Bingley voiced his appreciation. There was, however, one essential point that he must make.

“While I unreservedly accept your apology,” he said, “it will take some time to restore trust between us and that will depend completely upon your behaviour.”

Darcy nodded. He had anticipated nothing less. A silence of some moments fell between them. Bingley saw no need to fill it, for he was certain that Darcy had another reason for this visit, though he could not comprehend what it was. Finally, his visitor, spoke.

“While I am pleased to renew our friendship, Charles, there is another purpose for me to call on you. I. . .”

Bingley gave him an encouraging nod.

“Yes . . . Well, I wish to call on Miss Bennet.”

“Lizzy? You want to call on Lizzy?”

Darcy nodded. He could not help but wonder at Bingley’s expression. Surprise, he anticipated. But there was something more. Uncertainty? Hesitation? He could not discern what had disturbed Bingley. The latter did not allow his uncertainty to persist.

“You know, do you not, that Elizabeth dislikes you?”

Darcy knew his countenance had displayed the shock he experienced. Bingley nodded, repeating his words as if to emphasize the point.

“Yes . . Though? . . well, she certainly did the last time your name was mentioned, but as that was over a year ago, I cannot say she does so still.”

Darcy remained silent as his mind ranged over his past encounters with Elizabeth Bennet. He could not account for his displeasure, for he rather thought that she liked and admired him. Had she not flirted and teased him? At length, he responded, “Might I asked why she . . . on what grounds does she dislike me?”

Bingley’s gaze became abstracted as he mulled over this question. At last, he shook his head, “I really cannot say for certain. You did not present yourself well during your visit and a George Wickham sunk your character as well. But I believe you must ask Elizabeth.”

“Then I might call on her?”

“That, Darcy, is a question only she can answer. I shall enquire of it with her and send around a note, most probably tomorrow as she and Jane and young Charlie are out visiting the Gardiners.”

Darcy nodded in resignation and shortly thereafter went away.

~~~~~~~

“Mr. Darcy wishes to call on me?” exclaimed Elizabeth. 

Bingley grinned at her. She huffed in . . . exasperation? Hr found it amusing that she would be seemingly affronted that a wealthy, handsome – for Bingley hand been told by too many ladies how handsome Darcy was, to doubt it – gentleman might wish to call on her personally. His sister, Caroline, would have been ecstatic if Darcy deigned to favour her with a condescending smile. 

“He does,” he replied, choosing not to mention that he had informed Darcy of her dislike. Feigned ignorance was called for in this instance. 

“Is this a problem?”

Elizabeth huffed once more and Jane, who had been a silent witness so far, offered, “Surely you do not still harbour ill-feelings for Mr. Darcy, Lizzy?”

Bingley interposed before Elizabeth could form a reply. “I have never quite understood why you hold Darcy in such dislike, Lizzy. I know he was far from the friendliest person when he stayed at Netherfield, and I remember that you certainly appeared to enjoy tweaking his nose when he offered you the opportunity.”

Jane smiled, “Ah, our Lizzy can hold a grudge almost as well as Mama.”

Elizabeth flushed and Bingley looked confused, immediately asking his wife to explain. Jane, ignoring the glare from her sister, did so.

“Do you recall the very first time we met?” she asked.

“The assembly?”

“Yes! And do you recollect an incident during that assembly where you attempted to persuade Mr. Darcy to dance?”

Bingley shook his head, “that was a rather frequent occurrence, so . . . no, I do not.”

“Well, no matter. You did, and pointed to Lizzy here as a desirable partner. Mr. Darcy was very . . . forthright in declining to ask Lizzy to dance, calling her . . . what was it, Lizzy?”

“Tolerable,” growled her sister.

“Yes, that is it. And to make matters worse he did not want to give consequence to ladies who were slighted by other men.”

Jane could not help but smirk at her sister’s annoyance. Elizabeth did not, she knew all too well, like to have her judgements controverted, and did not respond well when her basis for forming an ill-opinion was called into question.

“He seemed to have overlooked that the assembly boasted a shortage of men to partner us,” added Elizabeth.

“And this is why you so dislike Darcy?” said Bingley.

“That,” replied Elizabeth, “and his treatment of my family and neighbours. He was everything conceited and arrogant.”

“It seems rather . . . trivial to me,” said her brother. 

Elizabeth did not respond immediately. Her sojourn with her sister and Bingley had moderated the harshness with which she adjudged others. Bingley and Jane were too kind and too tolerant to not influence her and she had observed several instances where their more tolerant views had proven more accurate than hers. It was a salutatory lesson. 

“Very well, I shall consider it,” was the grudging response.

The decision was not made that day for she required a visit to consult with her aunt Gardiner. That her aunt would endorse allowing Mr. Darcy to call on Elizabeth neither of the Bingleys doubted. Elizabeth, when questioned on her return, would only admit that her aunt had at first declined to offer an opinion as she did not know the gentleman but, when pressed, declared that the Darcy family was well thought of and she could see no reason to decline his request.

“It is not,” said she (according to Elizabeth), “as if he has made an offer of marriage. He obviously has an interest in you – one that has survived over a year’s separation – and it can do you no harm, surely, to see if you might have an interest in him, can it?”

Elizabeth found herself unable to logically and sensibly refute this statement.

“And,” she finally stated, “he is the handsomest gentleman of my acquaintance – a trait which a gentleman ought to have if at all possible.”

Her sister smiled, recalling Elizabeth saying something rather similar about her own dear Charles. Bingley laughed.

A note was, that very night, sent to Darcy inviting him to dine with them the following evening.

~~~~~~~

Darcy’s courtship of Elizabeth Bennet was most certainly not the work of a moment.

It is not the intent of this work to expose the myriad trials and tribulations encountered by the couple as they worked their way towards an eventual marriage. Suffice it to say that it required more than a half-year for Darcy to convince Elizabeth that she could repose her trust and heart into his care. The journey occurred in fits and starts, having to bridge her misunderstandings of his character and a reformation in his manners. Several unpleasant arguments took place, for some matters – mainly his overbearing pride – could not be surmounted otherwise. But two rational people, both of whom had come to appreciate the finer qualities of the other and willing to compromise and make necessary amendments, can overcome most obstacles. It might be truthfully observed that the key development in their courtship occurred when the Bingleys and Elizabeth accepted an invitation to spend a month at Pemberley. There Elizabeth met and befriended Darcy’s younger sister, Georgiana, and from her learned the true depths of George Wickham’s traitorous behaviour. It was, however, Mrs. Reynolds, Pemberley’s respected housekeeper, who provided the most telling testimony to the Darcy’s character, for what can be more valuable than the words of a respected servant who has the benefit of many years of service. To Mrs. Reynolds’ commendation Elizabeth could add the evidence of her own investigations, for she made it a point to observe his treatment of his staff, his tenants and those who had occasion to visit Pemberley. He was diligent in his management of his estate, caring and kind with his sister, and, if prone to a surplus of pride, it was for the beauty of his estate, the respectability of the Darcy family, and appeared to be under good regulation. She did not immediately reveal the revolution in her feelings, allowing him to court her openly during the small season, before accepting his offer of marriage a fortnight before Christmas. Marriage followed a month later after the reading of the bans. Though some of his family expressed their concerns – and one, Lady Catherine de Bourgh, in the most vehement of terms – Darcy’s resolute stance and Elizabeth’s intelligence and manners, soon calmed such fears as may have been expressed, excepting only Lady Catherine’s. Even she, after the passage of a year, grudgingly reconciled herself to the match.

As for Bingley, by the time Darcy and Elizabeth married, his relationship with Darcy had been rebuilt to a more equitable basis than in the past, and both gentlemen were satisfied that it was so. Bingley’s relationship with his sisters, who had valiantly attempted, once his reconciliation with Darcy was made known to them, to re-establish themselves in his company that they might advantage themselves of the connection, did not prosper as they hoped. Bingley and Jane were too amiable to maintain an estrangement; however, neither wished to be imposed upon, nor did they wish to have his sisters impose upon Darcy and Elizabeth. Thus, while Miss Bingley and the Hursts were received cordially, the insincerity of their manners was obvious, and though they repaid every arrear of civility to Jane and Bingley, the latter did not encourage, by word or deed, any particular familiarity. Invitations from Darcy were not routinely extended to include Miss Bingley or the Hursts, and the Bingleys did not count them amongst their closest circle of friends.

This proved to Miss Bingley’s detriment, for not only had Elizabeth’s marriage to Darcy dashed Miss Bingley’s aspirations in that regard, but her absence from Darcy’s circle, constrained her matrimonial objects. Eventually, and at the rather advanced age of five and twenty, she accepted an offer from a wealthy businessman from Manchester and removed there to his fine mansion and persuaded herself that she was amongst society’s leaders in that bustling centre. It might even have been true.

The Bennet family did not benefit from the marriages of the eldest two daughters to the degree that Mrs. Bennet expect. Jane and Elizabeth’s concern about Lydia’s unruly behaviour found ready support from Bingley who, at their urging, spoke determinedly against allowing her to travel to Brighton as the companion of Colonel Forster’s wife. Mrs. Bennet was persuaded to accept that Lydia’s carefree, boisterous manners were completely unacceptable within Bingley’s circle of friends and that if she, Mrs. Bennet, wished for her youngest daughter to make an advantageous match – and Mrs. Bennet had aspirations of Lydia attaching no less than a peer – she must change. To this end, Mrs. Bennet proved receptive to Bingley’s disapproval of the scheme and was persuaded – reluctantly and certainly not easily – to deny Lydia’s acceptance. It was a tumultuous period for Longbourn’s residents, and Mr. Bennet was heard more than once decrying the loss of his peace and tranquility, for Lydia’s complaints were loud and seemingly unending.

Lydia, however, proved completely resistant to any significant amendment. Her father, uncle and Bingley finally concluded that her character was fixed and that she was beyond improvement. It was Mrs. Bennet who proposed a solution which the others were forced to adopt.

“Lydia,” said her mother, in a rare moment sensibleness, “has always a man in regimentals. Can we not find an officer for her to marry?”

“And one preferably in India,” muttered Elizabeth.

While the end of the war with France had shrunk England’s military forces, regiments were being assigned oversees, in particular to India. It was but the work of several months to locate and bribe, with the offer of a promotion, a suitable officer. Lydia was given a choice: marry or be returned to Longbourn and denied all society. If she were of a greater intelligence, the impossibility – Mr. Bennet’s nerves would never tolerate such a measure – of the latter, she might have objected more strongly to the marriage. However, the man was handsome, was dressed in regimentals, and had assured her that India’s society was replete with balls and entertainments. To India she went and there she remained until some thirty years later when her husband retired.

Kitty, once removed from Lydia’s sway, proved more amenable to correction and Jane and Elizabeth over the course of time were able to affect such changes as to make her less insipid. More importantly, after a few years in their company she met and married a respectable gentleman with a modest estate in a southern county.

Wickham had removed with the ____shire militia regiment to Brighton. His stay there was of a short duration, for his debts to shopkeepers and to his fellow officers became so pressing that he was forced to flee, winding up in London. Where he lived in dismal conditions. A plea to Darcy for assistance soon followed, and that gentleman made his final contribution to the Wickham welfare fund. A gift of aa hundred pounds and passage to Australia was offered and accepted, though not with any display of pleasure on Wickham’s part. It was, he was assured by Darcy, the last funds he might ever expect from the Darcy family. Wickham did travel to Australia, for Darcy accompanied him to the boat that was to carry him there, and remained at the dock until it had sailed out of sight.

~~~~~~~

Some years later, Jane Bingley was resting in her husband’s arms, listening to his soft breathing, knowing that he was, as was usual at such times, more likely than not to drift off to sleep, was recalled – though she had no idea from whence or why the thought arose – to those unhappy days at Longbourn when it seemed probable that Bingley would never return to her.

She sat up, disturbing her husband’s repose, and turning towards him, asked, “You have never, in all the years of our marriage, told me what passed between you and your sisters after you left Netherfield.”

Needless to say, Bingley was astounded at the introduction of such a topic at such a moment. It took her several very long moments to comprehend the direction of her question, and even longer to recollect what had occurred.

“Is it of any importance now?” he asked. “Did I not return as I promised?”

Jane agreed that he had.

“Then,” said he, “I suggest that we allow the matter to remain in the past. My sisters and Darcy thought to persuade me to give you up, but I was assured of your affection and would not.”

“Were they so convinced that you would comply with their demands?”

“I think so, however, it was but the work of a moment to demonstrate the error of their opinions.”

Jane snuggled back into his warm embrace.

~~~~ The End ~~~~


End file.
